#not sure what exactly I'd bring. probably not my laptop but almost anything I'd use it for i can just use my phone so

[opinated-user]

Catching up on stuff I missed and that whole debacle with Batman’s food just doesn’t make reasonable sense no matter what way you slice. Why do you need to show a receipt for buying cat food? Does this person not know what a receipt is for? It’s mainly for being eligible to return an item if it wasn’t satisfactory to your tastes, but you can’t just do that with food, because you have to have ruined the packaging in some way in order to use it. No store is going to take back a cereal box someone opened up because the cereal turned out to be stale. You keep receipts for shit like buying clothes in case the clothes might not fit, which is actually what happened to me a few weeks ago when buying new jeans so there’s an example right there.

And second, this has to assume that Courtney wouldn’t, you know, feed her cat, like she said she was going to. What kind of person would just intentionally starve their cat, if they weren’t already abusive to their pets? The fact that she considered pawning off her laptop, which is going to have long term consequences in any capacity, just to feed the poor guy shows she clearly was really to take the long term hit just so she doesn’t have to lose her cat.

And third, how the fuck does this relate to Lily using money that was supposed to go to Mikala (not sure if that’s spelled right) immigration fees to buy a new desk. This is a giant stretch to put those on the same levels of seriousness. I can reasonably understand that Courtney’s current situation could mean that she can use some of the money meant for cat food to buy other things, since I can reasonably assume that her Ko-fi was made for that purpose, and Courtney’s character means she would probably be upfront if that’s something that happened, and good on her for doing that anyways, she seems to be tight on money as is. Meanwhile, Lily committed actual fraud. I’m not sure if this could count as charity fraud, but even someone like me, with no law experience, clearly knows taking money meant for something big and spending it on something else is legally questionable.

THERE WAS AN ENTIRE CONTROVERSY LATELY WITH THE COMPLETIONIST HAVING DONE EXACTLY THAT, WHY DID NO ONE QUESTION THIS

Sorry if this is long-winded and redundant at this point, but I saw that whole thing when catching up on the LO drama and I just needed to vent my whole frustrations with that.

i have to thank you, anon, for putting everything i have felt about that particular situation so succinctly. after everything was said and done, i have a strong feeling that sparky was behind those messages. just like i'm almost sure that he was behind all the "apparently" messages that LO is getting with archived links of our posts. why? because that's exactly how he used to talk to me just to hear my response. the only times we talked at all was when he wanted to bring some new thing that LO had said or done. that without even bringing up he confessed to Brittany he just likes to stir the pot to see what happens. that's his way to try to sympathize with you, to show you that he is on your side. "i bring you all this stuff that you can use against the people you dislike, so that must mean that i'm good in your eyes, right? only a friendly person would do that!" nevermind that even back then, i'd find weird the frequency with which he did it because... sometimes he'd share completely innocent and small messages from LO and i'd have genuinely no idea of how to respond because they were completely useless to prove anything. that's the exact same thing he is doing with LO, but he has upgraded now to just completely lie or intentionally misrepresent everything to self that distorted version back to LO. LO's being played like a fiddle, just like he played all of us for a while until he revealed his true colors. i have no doubt in my mind that only an individual acting in bad faith would seriously try to take me trying to talk about LO scamming her audience, literally going out of their way to copy my words, spamming me with multiple messages even after i blocked their IP by using a VPN, as somehow Courtney being the one to scam everyone because she didn't show the receipts for cat food. but of course that LO only cares about having something, anything, against the sibling that is dennouncing her, so she won't bother to use reason, logic or even check if the allegations are true before just publish them for her audience to stick only with whatever she tells them. they already believe that a 6 year old can be blamed for the abuse perpetrated by an adult after all!

#lily orchard

[ivoncu]

hi! tsukasa + 💋 please <3

DAY 6 — CHRISTMAS PROMPT 💋 + tsukasa suou

💋  ─  be caught standing under the mistletoe

Ah, finally work is done. You can finally close your laptop and breathe a little more freely for the rest of the week.

From the distance, a certain redhead had just watched you from afar, contemplating whether he should go up to you or not and how exactly is he going to go up to you?

His own thoughts overlaps one another until he saw you closing down your laptop, instantly bringing him back to reality; without much thought, he walked up to you with a polite smile on his face.

"Producer-san, thank you for your work today." He said, taking you by surprise.

"Oh, Suou-kun. Haha, no need to thank me~ I'm just doing my work." You waved him off dismissively.

"Right, and NewDi is preparing for a Christmas party to celebrate for our success this year on christmas eve. May I ask if you're coming to the party, producer?"

"Saegusa would kill me otherwise." You sighed, sheepishly being reminded of your boss.

"You mean the vice president? I don't know why would he murder you just because you didn't come a a simple celebration party." He said, slightly irritated in your steed.

"We're friends—at least I think; no need to think too much about it, Suou." You said, chuckling sheepishly as you packed your stuff up from the desk.

The moment you out everything inside your bag, you zipped it the bag together and motioned to the door to Tsukasa.

"Would you like to walk home with me?" You ask before you realized that he is literally rich and probably has a limo waiting for him outside of the building. "—well, walk outside of the building with me." You corrected yourself.

"I'd be honored to!" Tsukasa exclaimed, smiling happily at your invitation.

As you walk out of the office, you noticed just how festive NewDi seems now with the christmas decorations all around the place; the faint bgm of a christmas song was to be heard too, it truly did felt like christmas.

"Ah, producer are the decorations nice...? Us, Knights were the ones who put it on, so it'll be a great insight if you could tell me just how you truly feel about it."

"I think it's nice! I never knew you'd be ones to do that, honestly... I have a wild guess that you and Arashi were the only one's who truly did your jobs."

"Ou-sama hanged mistletoes all around the place—if two people were to be caught under it, it'll mean they'll find their one true love and kiss, or something he said."

"Classic Leo."

"I can't stand him sometimes, honestly." Tsukasa sighed.

"Huh? Were you two talking about me?" Speaking of the devil, he had appeared.

"O-ou-sama?! Just when did you appear in the first place?!" Tsukasa jumps, startled at Leo's sudden appearance.

"I have my ways!" He giggled, smiling like a child. "I was here to say... You've been trapped!"

"Ou-sama, this isn't the time for your jokes!"

"I'm not joking right now—look up, dummy!"

Upon his instructions, Tsukasa looked up and what he saw was completely to his surprise—a mistletoe.

Well, he had knew Leo puts the mistletoes almost everywhere, but he was sure he hadn't seeb any here and it'd be safe to talk here.

"Wahaha, I can't believe it! Suo with the Producer caught under the mistletoe? You two should just kiss already!"

"O-ou-sama, that isn't a funny thing to joke about!" Tsukasa proceed to scold Leo who is having the time of his life.

But then Tsukasa does realize, it's apart of the tradition, isn't it? To kiss the person who you were caught under the mistletoe with? He could've just disagreed with the idea of kissing someone, but he was caught with you; his crush!

He is still a gentleman nonetheless, he will not do anything to you if you don't want it, therefore he will not try to bring that idea up.

"'Kasa?" You tapped his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly for some reason.

"Y-yes, Producer? I must say I do realize this is very ungentlemanly of me, but–"

"No, no! Do you wanna kiss...? Haha, hypothetical question! Just asking..."

Did Tsukasa heard correctly? His ears wasn't playing tricks with him, right...? Did you actually asked him if he'd like to... Kiss you?!

"I-I— uhm, well, I would love to!" Tsukasa soon answered, his face could be easily seen heating up. "B-but, I–"

Before he could continue on his rambling, you decided to give his lip a light peck. If he wasn't the same shade as his hair before, he sure is now.

"Y-you... Mustn't do that, Producer..." He muttered, unable to find the courage to look at you in the face as he covers his mouth with his arms.

"Wahaha! I seriously can't believe it, you two actually confessed your feelings for reach other!"

"OU-SAMA!" Tsukasa yelled, finally having enough of Leo's teasing.

#🎄... christmas event! #🎁... happy holidays to you! #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #tsukasa suou x reader

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 5 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 ** Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tarquin makes good on his word and starts messaging me over the next couple of weeks about getting paintings into his gallery. He wants six, says I can pick four but he must have these two specific ones from my Instagram. I agree to it of course, it’s my first gallery. I’d agree to almost anything. Problem is, I don’t have them. They’re at Tamlin’s.

“Do you want me to drive you over?” Rhys says. We’re all at his place, the movie’s queued up but we’re waiting for Mor. Apparently, the last time they started without her she threw a fit and made them play it from the beginning even though they were a half hour in. I'm telling them about the painting situation, but I haven't shown them the photos yet because I want the first time they see them to be in person, in a gallery. Maybe some of Mor's dramaticism is rubbing off on me.

“No,” I tell him. Rhys’s voice is casual, but there’s something about the set of his jaw when he thinks about taking me back to Tamlin’s house, and I know he doesn’t really want to do it. “I can just do something similar.”

“Okay.” Rhys eats his pizza, letting me pick the olives off my pieces and put them on his. It's a symbiotic system we have. I'm sitting in my what has become my usual spot, in between Mor and Rhys, with his pizza box balanced on my outstretched legs and warm on my shins. He says nothing more about the paintings for the rest of the evening.

When we’re all going back to our own beds, I find Azriel leaning against my door.

It's unusal that I speak to Azriel alone, but Rhys has passed out on the couch and only grunted at us when we tried to wake him.

Last week, I stayed back to help him clean up because I got startled by a jump-scare in the movie and kicked the bowl of popcorn clean out of Rhys's lap. We discussed Beyoncé's input to the new Lion King in parallel with Elton John's in the original while Rhys washed, sleeves pushed up and hands sudsy, and I dried, perched on his kitchen bench beside him. He gave me his silver rings to take care of while he worked, and they were huge on my fingers.

The week before that, Rhys got a new armchair and let me have his old one. He helped me carry it back to my place after the movie and we got into an argument about the best order to watch Star Wars in. We ended up playing about an hour's worth of YouTube content to back up our claims. Perched on the edge of my bed, crowding the small screen of my ancient laptop.

Today thought, it's just me and Azriel, and he has a question for me.

“Can you really do another two paintings before next weekend?”

“Sure,” I say, wondering why he’s asking.

“The four you’re bringing. They’re all new ones, right?” His hands are in the pockets of his jacket.

“Yeah,” I confirm. “I didn’t bring any with me when I moved, they’re too bulky.”

“Do you find it easy to produce artwork on demand?”

“No,” I say slowly. “This is probably the fastest I’ve ever made anything.”

“And do you get as much satisfaction with the end result?”

“I guess not.” I peer at him searchingly, still not understanding.

There’s a long pause, and I’m about to ask what exactly he’s doing outside my door grilling me when Azriel says, “I could get them for you, you know.”

I just stare.

“Get… what, Azriel?”

“Your paintings. I can get them from Tamlin’s house without him knowing.” He says it like he’s offering to pick up some milk since he’s doing a grocery run anyway.

My first instinct is to say no. Is to say definitely not, bad idea, we are not poking the hornet’s nest.

"Azriel, I can't ask you to do that..."

Not to mention it appears that I'd being helped out again and so far have still not brought anything to the table for these people.

"I don't mind. It'd be fun, I need to stretch my legs. So to speak."

Problem is, he’s right. I don’t have two more paintings in me. And I just cannot disappoint Tarquin.

“Okay,” I say. Slightly breathless. Unbelieving. Azriel nods, and pushes off the door.

“Do you want to stay here or come with?”

I blanche. “What, now?”

He shrugs. “You got someplace else to be?” I have no answer to that. “Come on then,” he says, and doesn’t wait for me before strolling off. I shoot a desperate glance towards Rhys’s closed door, praying he’ll never find out about this, and follow Azriel into the night.

Azriel’s car is old but in excellent condition. I can easily imagine him working on it, quiet and meticulous, with scarred but loving hands. It purrs quietly through the streets, and I chew on my fingernails as streetlights stroke the hood. I've never asked about the scars and I'm not sure there's an appropriate way of doing so, so I don't.

“Thanks for doing this,” I say. “I know Rhys offered but…”

“But Rhys isn’t exactly cool, calm and collected when it comes to Tamlin.”

“Exactly,” I agree. There’s a brief silence. “Should we… go over the plan?”

Azriel looks over at me then, curiosity sparking in his dark eyes.

“Sure,” he says. “Where are the paintings?”

“In the garage,” I tell him. “Leaning against the wall on the right-hand side.”

“Okay.” That’s all he says.

“Is that it?”

“Yeah, I can visualise the area.”

“You’ve been in there before?”

“I have.”

I don’t say anything, imagining what reasons Azriel could possibly have for being in Tamlin’s garage. Wondering if Tamlin knew he was there at the time.

“Right. So, what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?!” I whip my head around to look at him. “Then why did you bring me?”

“Because I thought you might want to come.”

And in fairness, I do. I want to be part of taking back things from Tamlin, and not just sending others in to do it for me.

“Can I be the getaway driver at least?”

Azriel smirks. “Can you drive stick?”

I roll my eyes. "Yes I can drive stick.”

“Then sure.”

I’m mildly surprised; I took Azriel to be the sort to be precious about his car and was ready to argue.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

Azriel is quiet for a moment.

“It would be helpful to keep an eye out while I’m in there. Text me if you see Tamlin coming round.” He hands me his phone, glances at it to unlock it, and I use it to call my phone so I have his number.

“Anything else?”

“That’s it. This isn’t exactly a complex mission, you know.”

“Right.” We lapse into silence again. Then I say, “Do you do this a lot, then? Missions?”

Azriel barks a laugh, and I think maybe it’s the first time since I’ve heard it. His laugh.

“Not these days. But when we were younger we used to get into all kinds of trouble.”

“Rhys has told me a few stories…”

“Yeah well, we’re reformed now.” He glances at me. “This is a rescue mission, it doesn’t count.”

I gnaw on my thumb nail. The streets have begun to look familiar, and I’m getting nervous. Azriel looks slidelong at me.

“Not getting cold feet are you?”

“No,” I say quickly. Azriel smirks and turns his eyes back to the road.

And I'm not, not exactly. I don't have any qualms about taking my pantings back, but I'm suprised at how anxious being back in this neighbourhood makes me.

“Did Rhys tell you about the time we broke into the principal’s office at school and he was such a bad actor he almost wrecked the whole mission?”

“No,” I say again. A small smile finds me at the thought.

“Yeah, we were sixteen and Rhys was supposed to distract the front desk lady while me and Cassian snuck into the office. We were looking for a set of keys, see, but when we got in there, there was a whole cabinet of keys and we took ages finding the right one. I just remember trying to turn all the little tags over, and Cassian standing at the window signalling Rhys to stall.

“Anyway, Rhys is starting to sweat, he’s trying to charm this woman right, but she’s like fifty-five and not having it. And then the bloody principal walks around the corner and stops to ask what the problem seems to be.”

This is the most I’ve ever heard Azriel talk, and I’m enthralled.

“So what did he do?” I ask.

“He just starts babbling, I don’t know what he was saying but I’m hearing him chatter and then he knocks a cup of pens off the desk and when the Principal stoops to pick them up Rhys falls to the floor like he’s fainted.”

“Oh my god the drama. Did they buy it?”

“Not at all,” Az grins. “The Principal says, ‘Rhysand I don’t know what you’re playing at but you will get up off the floor this instant.’ And then I find the keys, and we wave madly at Rhys before sneaking out. Cassian strolls right in and offers to help Rhys get to the nurse, and the Principal just sighs and lets them go. Meanwhile, I was halfway down the corridor with they key in my pocket.”

“What was the key for?” I’m hooked, and the image of the three of them as teenagers is darling.

“It was to break Mor out of detention,” he said. “At that point, both me and Cass were trying to get into her pants.”

I laugh. “And did either of you succeed?” I tease.

“That, I will let you ask Morrigan.” He winks at me, and I settle back into my seat with a grin.

“We’re here,” Az says quietly, and my smile fades.

Indeed we are pulling into a street I know well, and Azriel parks the car in the shadows of a leafy tree across from Tamlin’s house. He gets out of the car and I slide into the driver’s seat, adjusting the seat and the mirror to my much shorter legs. When Az knocks on the window, I wind it down and he leans on the frame.

“I really don’t expect anything to go wrong,” he says. “But if you see Tamlin coming out, call my phone and let it ring twice. I’ve got it on vibrate. Lock the car when I’m gone, just remember to unlock it as soon as you see me coming back.”

“Okay. Just remember that there’s a door into the garage from inside the house, so he doesn’t necessarily have to come outside to get in.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Also, there will be quite a few paintings so maybe just grab them all.” But Azriel shakes his head.

“I don’t want them to be conspicuously gone. No reason for him to come looking for them.”

“Right.” My nails are in my mouth again. “I’m not sure where in the stack they’d be. Do you need to see the photos of the ones we’re looking for?”

“Yeah may as well have another look.”

I show him, and he nods. And then he’s gone, loping off in the dark so I can barely see him even though I’m staring after him. A minute later, I don’t see him but I see the movement of the garage door. I admire how quickly he’s picked the lock.

After that, time drags. My eyes flick between the blue numbers on Azriel’s dashboard, and the shadows in the windows of Tamlin’s house.

My old house.

It’s very strange to be an outsider here. I lived in that house for three years and it was my home, too. Even if I never quite felt comfortable there.

As I’m sitting here, the car is suddenly flooded with light from behind. It goes dark again, and I turn to see Tamlin’s car pulling into the drive way.

I had seen figures in the house and assumed Tamlin was in, but of course there were always staff around. Tamlin wasn’t home- but he is now.

I swear under my breath and fumble with my phone. I dial Azriel’s number and let it ring as instructed, but it doesn’t seem like enough. I suddenly empathise with sixteen-year-old Rhys, dropping to the floor of his Principal’s office.

So I clench my teeth and dial a number I thought I’d never dial again. He picks up on the third ring.

“Feyre?”

“Hi Tamlin,” I say.

“Feyre, where are you?” He cuts the engine, and makes no further movements toward the garage.

“I’m… it doesn’t matter where I am. I’m calling because… because I heard you were looking for me.”

“Of course I’m looking for you, you just disappeared on me. I’ve been worried sick.”

It's chilling how genuinely concerned he sounds. I'm angry that I feel this tug of guilt, and remind myself that concern does not count when on a turn of a dime he could just as easily be throwing things at my head again.

“I didn’t just disappear, though," I remind him. "I told you it was over. It’s not my fault if you didn’t believe me.”

“It can’t be over, Feyre. We were engaged. That doesn’t just go away.”

I swallow, and am very glad to be alone in Azriel’s car. This is a fact I hadn’t mentioned to Rhys or any of the others. I had left the ring on Tamlin’s nightstand with a note.

“Yes, well. We’re not anymore.”

I watch Tamlin get out of the car and pace back and forth. I watch the garage door crack open.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Tamlin says. “This is all just a misunderstanding. Come home, and everything will be okay.”

“No, Tamlin,” I say. “I’m not coming back. It’s over. I’m just calling to tell you not to look for me anymore.”

Tamlin turns on his heel and walks back toward the house. Azriel takes this opportunity to slip out, closing the garage door behind him and folding into the shadows. My heart leaps into my throat.

“I will never stop looking for you,” Tamlin growls. “You belong with me.” He turns again and walks back the other way, but Azriel is nowhere to be seen. I unlock the car doors.

“Good bye, Tamlin,” I say, and although it’s a stall tactic I feel it’s a conversation that needed to be had.

“You’ll never have it so good,” Tamlin snarls. But I hang up before he can get nasty, and when Tamlin spins and throws his phone against the wall, Azriel slips into the back seat. With two canvases tucked under his arm. Tamlin gets back into his car and drives it into the garage, and Azriel and I speed off into the night.

****

See just a little heist.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @themoonthestarsthesuriel @rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red @alerialumina

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #rhys x feyre #can i tell you a quick story #last night i had the worst nightmare i think i have ever had in my whole life #i killed two people just trying to get out #which i was horrified by #it wasnt like some cool movie sequence it was nauseating #but then they WOULDNT DIE #so i tried to kill myself but that didnt work either #and then i found #i kid you not #a customer service desk #where i begged and begged to be let out #and then i guess they finally gave in because that's when i woke up #and thats only the ending the main part was full of running and hiding and being trapped #and having all kinds of bodily fluids forced on me #it was just #ive never dreamed anything like that #i was acutally scared to go back to sleep and then i told bf #and started crying like a kid nightmare #horrible #just truly horrible #anyway here's a nice fic

[thestarmaker]

Briefly considered bringing my record player and collection to where I might be petsitting/staying over at this Friday night but then I remembered said pets shed SO much and are currently in their spring shedding phases and instantly realized having vinyls anywhere in that house would just result in them being absolutely covered in fur

#curse static electricity #T-T it would be so nice especially bc it's probably gonna be rainy too #it's just dad's gf's house (not getting paid or anything I'm just excited to be in a house w animals again) but it'll still be really cool #plus her animals are super easy just a very sweet lab and two chill cats #but my lord do they shed. both cats have pretty long fur which doesn't help #i really hope her daughter goes to that dance competition. it's early Saturday (7:30am which like ??) so she'd just spend Friday night there #like the plan is for her to go rn but she's not absolutely positive #but if she knows I'm totally down to petsit it should at least encourage her #not sure what exactly I'd bring. probably not my laptop but almost anything I'd use it for i can just use my phone so #not really worth the hassle when i can just pop some pjs and toothbrush and phone/charger in a bag and pretty much call it good #might get some mcdonalds or smthn on the way for dinner who knows #plus she has those truly lemonades and she'll probably let me have some. and she has pretty good taste in snacks all things considered #misc

[kisekinodrabbles]

helloo! i'd like to request something for the prompt game please :D kasamatsu + band!au + strangers to lovers + dialogue number 14 if that's okay? thanks, sam! and welcome back~

ofc!!! i tried to keep it shorter but im a bit rusty w my kasamatsu hehe hope u enjoy! wc: 2.3k

Kasamatsu admits that balancing his band and college work isn’t exactly an easy task. Between late evenings spent at gigs and all nights at the library, he is on the brink of his sanity, standing right at the tipping point. He yawns as he enters his nine am mandatory calculus class, another mistake made in his overconfidence that he would somehow be able to get his shit together.

You, on the other hand, are a closeted fan of his band, sitting three rows behind him in class. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you watch him drag his feet in and his hand lifting to his mouth in a yawn. Quickly, you duck behind your book as if Kasamatsu would ever give you the time of day. The brunette is well-known on campus with his successful group and good looks, not to mention he also dabbles a little in basketball while also maintaining a decent grade point average across all his classes. Triple threat, they call him.

When you first came into class and saw him there, shocked is an understatement. You’ve been following his band his high school from across the country. To see him in the flesh, so real and so human with his tired eyes, it almost feels like a dream. One you hope nobody would ever pinch you awake from. Thus, you made it your goal to be there before him every morning, which is a feat in itself. Kasamatsu may be grinding through the night and falling asleep in lectures, but he’ll be damned if he shows up late to class.

Throughout several weeks, you’ve seen girls come up to him left and right, shot down almost immediately by his intention to focus on the professor’s words. He lets them down easy and makes it clear that he pays thousands of dollars to study, not play IRL Tinder. This man gets sexier everyday.

You take your time packing your things when class is over, mainly because you’re too distracted watching Kasamatsu do the same. He is blind, or chooses to ignore, the whispers and shy glances thrown his way. Perhaps this is why you haven’t approached him yourself. You’re just one of his many admirers, a stroke in the massive painting of his life. Sighing, you pick up your pitiful self and make your way to the dining hall where you’re supposed to meet your friend for breakfast.

When the two of you settle on a table, you begin your weekly rambling about how beautiful Kasamatsu looks in the morning. Moriyama, being the good friend that he is, nods and listens intently.

Moriyama is an intriguing character. The two of you met because he had tried a line on you. In your perpetual state of flustered embarrassment, you had stupidly confessed to him: “Sorry, my heart belongs to Kasamatsu Yukio.”

In another twist of fate, he revealed that he had actually gone to high school with the guy and knew him pretty well.

“You know I can introduce you to him, right? No need for all this pining and drooling from three feet away.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue, “he’s practically a living legend on campus. I’m too intimidated to even breathe in the same air as him.” Your obsession has perhaps taken you too far, but if you expect to continue being his fan, the last thing you want is to scare him away.

“You’re so overdramatic,” Moriyama rolls his eyes. Coming from him, this sentence means a lot.

“What? It’s not my fault Kasamatsu’s so hot. He could bang me so hard backstage then pretend I don’t exist and I would still pay to watch his next show,” you groan, spooning yogurt into your mouth.

In that moment, several things happen. Moriyama’s eyes widen and fly behind you. Footsteps sounding at that same spot suddenly cease completely. You, realizing what possibly just happened, feel the heat flare up your cheeks.

Kasamatsu, in his sleep deprived state and probably completely delirious, had stopped in his tracks. His head whipped around to the source of the comment, finding Moriyama sitting with someone who looks distinctly familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Kasamatsu—”

Before Moriyama can even finish his sentence, Kasamatsu is already blurting out. “Okay, maybe I’m crazy but did I just hear you say that out loud?”

You want to crawl into your hole six feet underground and never see the light of day again. Ducking your head, you don’t even want to chance a glance up. The utter mortification is chewing away at your bones and you wish you could just evaporate into thin air.

Moriyama quickly interjects with a quick laugh, “Hear what? Also how have you been, man? I haven’t seen you in forever. Come join us for breakfast.”

Kasamatsu’s brows pucker. Maybe he really is going insane. And horny. Which is a very bad combination. Nevertheless, he slides into the empty seat next to Moriyama. He stares at you for a few seconds, squinting, before snapping his fingers. “Oh, I remember now. You’re in my calculus class.”

He knows you? “How do you know me?” you squeak, cursing your fangirl self for losing your voice. You never speak up in class, always choosing to come up to your professor for questions at the end of lecture. You’re quiet and tucked away behind him, so you never expected him to recognize you.

The smile he sends you is blinding. Even with shadows under his eyes, he still looks gorgeous. “You’re always first to arrive and last to leave. Figured you’re a hard worker in class and probably acing it.”

Your mouth dries. Kasamatsu noticed you. He actually noticed you. “Oh, um, I’m okay. I’m okay in class, I mean.”

“The question you should be asking is her name, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama scolds, smacking his back.

Kasamatsu pinks sheepishly. “Sorry, yeah. I’m Kasamatsu Yukio, by the way.”

Idiotically, you blurt out “I know” before your name. When you finally introduce yourself, you also clarify, “I’m a huge fan of Blue Devils. I mean, I’ve been following you guys since like high school. Absolutely love your music.”

The man actually reddens even further, but still he beams proudly. “Thank you! That’s crazy. Have you been to our shows?”

Almost all of them. “A couple, yeah.”

“We have one tonight in an actual venue. Are you coming?”

“Ah, it was sold out before I could get a ticket, actually.”

Kasamatsu blinks, “Oh, you’re more than welcome to come. I can get you a pass. Both of you—if Moriyama’s interested.”

“That would be amazing!” You grin, “Is there anything I can get you in return? I don’t want to just accept a gift from you for free.”

“Well, if you are good at calc, I wouldn’t mind some extra tutoring,” he suggests with a teasing grin.

Moriyama rolls his eyes, “Just ask her out instead of using tutoring as an excuse.” The two of you sputter, face colored a dark shade of red. You’ll kick his ass when you get the chance.

—

That one mistake turned out to be the greatest opportunity of your life. In addition to attending his show that night and meeting all of his bandmates, each one more good looking up close than then other, you manage to have weekly study sessions (you’re holding off on calling it dates) with Kasamatsu. The two of you take turns booking rooms at the library to cram, which mainly consists of you reexplaining concepts to the man. Although he isn’t a bad student, he’s also still struggling a bit to keep up.

“Hey” is what you hear before you feel a warm surface press against your cheek. You look up to find Kasamatsu with a steaming cup in hand. Gratefully accepting it, you catch a whiff of freshly brewed tea. You take a sip and smile. Black tea, no sugar. “Just the way I like it.”

“Noticed you never add anything to your tea,” Kasamatsu says almost proudly.

You raise the cup to him in thanks. Both of you go through your usual routine—you focusing on reviewing material for next week while Kasamatsu pores over his notes from this week, occasionally poking you to ask questions.

Honestly, a big part of you still wonders if this is all a dream. This guy you’ve been crushing on for years is sitting in the flesh right across from you. You peek at him from time to time, watching the way he frowns at his book. His blue, almost grey, eyes shine underneath the flickering lights. Even the way his lips curl unhappily is cute.

When he catches you staring, you quickly drop your gaze back to your laptop, missing the way he smiles quietly.

“Will you come to our show this weekend?” He asks as the two of you pack up.

“Ah, I have a shift at my part-time job.”

He looks surprised, “That late?”

You shrug, “Food never sleeps, I guess. It’s at the burger diner by campus.”

“Oh, are you guys open late?”

“Close at one.”

He nods, “Maybe I’ll see you there after then. The guys usually get really hungry after a gig so we can drive some business your way. I’ll make sure they tip well too.”

Your heart warms at the thought. It’s a thoughtful gesture but you’re even more thrilled at the prospect of seeing him. “Sounds good.”

True to his word, Kasamatsu brings the guys to your workplace at midnight after their show ended. They order quite a spread, practically everything on the menu. Kasamatsu goes as far as to help you carry orders to their table. You shoot him an appreciative smile.

Over the time your friendship has bloomed, Kasamatsu has been nothing but a gentleman. He walks you home to your dorm if you’re studying late into the night. He meets you in class with a muffin or a cookie from his early Starbucks runs. Surprisingly, he begins placing himself next to you each session. “This is better anyway,” he mutters. “Two birds, one stone.”

His vague words had you tilting your head in question.

“I don’t have random people coming up to me to sit with me and, well, I get to enjoy your company.” It’s a nice thought—him enjoying your company, that is. He had blushed a little when he realized what you said, but chose to direct his attention to the slides pulled up before him, missing the way you hide your smile behind your sleeve.

Now, you hear the rowdy boys chattering on as they devour their meal as if it’s their last. They speak through mouthfuls of burgers and fries, but you find the sight endearing, mainly because you’ve never seen Kasamatsu so relaxed. It’s quite refreshing really. Your attention is piqued when you hear one of them ask: “So doing it tonight huh?”

Kasamatsu retorts with a “shut the fuck up” and flings a fry his way. The way the other guy wiggles his brows suggestively has you freezing. What if he was meeting up with someone tonight? What if he was going to do the deed?

Somewhere in the distance, you hear the faint cracking of your heart. Of course, Kasamatsu is popular. It’s no surprise he’s got his nights covered as well. You sigh dejectedly, feeling the hope inside you crumble into dust. The rest of your shift goes by rather uneventfully, but you try to avoid going to their table too much, lest you hear more details about Kasamatsu’s planned tryst. The man himself steals glances your way, wondering if you’ll be checking on them anytime soon.

“Your check,” you smile as you set the bill on the table, “I got the owner to give you a discount since you guys ordered a good amount.”

All of their eyes seem to sparkle as they thank you in unison, their synchrony almost puzzling. As you move to pick up the bill and change, Kasamatsu catches your hand before you move away. “What time does your shift end?”

“Half an hour. Why?”

The other guys are already packing up their things and giving you little waves as they exit the restaurant, leaving the two of you alone. “I’ll walk you home, it’s late,” he murmurs, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I usually take the bus back anyway so it’s no big deal.” You want to confirm whether he had plans that night anyway. You’d hate to be in the way of that.

He shakes his head, “I insist. Also, um, are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Catching up on studying most likely.”

“Oh,” he pauses, “if you have time tomorrow night, do you want to catch a movie with me? Maybe dinner after?”

You blink at him in surprise. Now that you’re looking at him properly, you notice that his cheeks are several shades darker than the red neon glow of the diner sign. He’s shifting on his feet and his other hand finds purchase on the strap of his bag, fidgeting with the material. “Um, like a date?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters slightly, his throat moving as he swallows. “Sorry, I probably should’ve made that clear,” he coughs, “b-but if you don’t want it to be the we can also go as friends.” Perhaps you’ve tortured the boy long enough but you can’t help but relish in his awkward chuckle as his hand lifts to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Biting back a huge grin, you nod. “It’s a date.”

Kasamatsu’s eyes light up and a pleased grin spread across his face. “It’s a date.”

The hollering outside the building has the two of you whipping to face the window where his bandmates have their faces pressed up against the surface, laughing and smiling to congratulate and embarrass their friend. Kasamatsu flushes, “I’ll see you later to pick you up.”

You nod but he’s already out the door, leaping to kick his friends away. “You stupid idiots!”

Laughing, you watch as the group makes kissy faces at Kasamatsu all the while the man fruitlessly attempts to shut them up. He really is cute.

#kuroko no basket #knb #kuroko no basuke #kasamatsu yukio #kasamatsu #knb drabbles #miffythoughts

[sesquipunzel]

Act 2 (291-300)

Yep, that is definitely the face of OH FUCK!  Exactly what I said, Johnny-me-boy!

Page 291 ==> 

I should have suspected that "I will try to be more careful next time” would come back to haunt Rose.

291. John watches the car plummet down to punch a silent hole through the cloud layer, and all his hopes of saving his friend and of having help and companionship in his predicament go plummeting down with it.

Mine did too, on reading page 290, but I've had time to think since then. I couldn't tell you if this is a fresh deduction or some faint memory bubbling up from previous read-through, but DAD went to the store after John saw the green package in the car, right? And returned, but we didn't see him carrying in the mail — because he was armless at the time. We didn't see him carrying in baking supplies either, but there was a fresh box of Betty on the counter when John was looking for him. So I'm gonna hazard the guess that the software is safely in the house somewhere. (Maybe even safely in the safe?)

[Which raises another question — couldn't Rose have looked for DAD in John's house, using the SBURB software, quicker and easier than John running around? John wasn't able to check in DAD's locked bedroom — could Rose look inside it anyway (assuming client!John is close enough)? What about looking inside the safe? This software is a coded migraine on so many levels.]

And I'd like to think DAD is in his room, busy doing something secret and important to save them all, but somehow I don't think that's how this is going to go.

Despite the magnitude of all the other issues he faces, I feel John can't help but think "dad's gonna be at least perturbed about us destroying his car"... but that's just gonna bring back the fact that dad is missing, and might not care about the car, or anything else, ever again.

292.  "But hey, accidents happen. You double check your PDA to make sure if Rose is really gone. Indeed this seems to be the case." Pretty fookin' cavalier, John! I know he means 'gone' as in 'offline', but the stakes are pretty fookin' high, and he knows there are fires and meteors threatening Rose's house — for all he knows SHE could be gone forever too, and he's just apparently lost the means to save her!

But sure, let's go check Pesterchum.

At least we get to talk to gardenGnostic, finally — she's been gone for like 200 pages.

293. GG is not meteor-splatted — she is curious, and excited, and empathic, and answers to a 'he' named 'bec'...? 

And John is taking the 'gotta save the world' stuff seriously — his movies have primed him well. As far as he knows, he's the only one to successfully create an Apple with the Alchemiter, and what Rose said about the purpose of the game really stuck with him: "and i think i have to save the world from the apocalypse!!!" 

Not all by yourself, kiddo! You've got friends, and look how GG believes in you!  

I think though, GG's not sure how much to believe yet about this being the end of everything for everyone — she's still able to sound light-hearted about Dave being silly. In fact, in general she "sounds" much more expressive in text than any of the others, lots of exclamation points and emoticons.

And I owe John an apology about his Cavalier-hood — he's thinking more clearly than I am about the fact that other people he knows have copies of the server software. Guess it was just the ‘oh well’ tone of that narration that jarred me.

294.  Aaaand Dave has apparently been rapping this whole time.

He gets with the program PDQ once John lays out the stakes, even with his mild "yo" and "oh man" and razzing on Rose's rambling rhetoric as if he has remotest room to rant.

295.  Returning to Rose in the rain: cos where else do you want to be during Harmageddon than crouching in a damp kitty crypt?

296.  The readers want her to knit a cozy for her laptop? They don't know knitters! If it's knittable and even the tiniest bit useful, she has already magicked it up out of Nothing and Wishes and String. So she equips the one she already has.

297-298.  And now they want her to make schpellcasting her schtrife schtyle...and she NOPES that right down as a really dumb way of messing with dark forces. [The chocolate fiend in me has always wondered if there are Special Dark Forces that shouldn't be messed with as well. Even if Hershey is the least special of the Dark Chocolate Forces.]

Probably for the best Rose doesn’t cross the streams, we readers don't know how magic OR science work in this verse, OR these SYLLADICES or SBURB software that fall somewhere in between. The multi-level interactions between byzantine systems would almost certainly be even more complicated and frustrating than what we've already got.

Rose apparently puts some thought into the order in which she grabs her stuff, which is better than John managed.

299.  Didn't I tell you knitting kneedles were vicious, way back when I first met Rose? I will take undeserved pride in my inadvertent prediction.

I think she should eventually pick up a pair like this, though:

300. Buuuut...allocating the knitting needles to the strife specibus causes Rose’s Tree Modus to go TIMBAAAA. Best laid plans of rats and roses gang aft agoogley, my dear. Back to one, and from the top!

That's it for tonight I'm afraid, but on pens and kneedles, storywise, and can't wait to attack the next bit and find out how we get Rose out of danger!

#homestuck liveblog #sesquipunzel reads homestuck #hs act 2 #homestuck #hs week 004

[corvid-knight]

Demon Eyes - chapter 21

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740258/chapters/33230775

Getting Dirk and John up and moderately awake takes half an hour, significantly longer than it takes to get ahold of the rest of your family. Hal's the one who deals with those two; Karkat stays at the table with you, in the chair next to you, seemingly focused on the laptop in front of him. He's more-or-less constantly checking on you, though; every few second he dips into your mind, asking wordless questions or offering reassurances that you can't quite bring yourself to totally believe.

Eventually Karkat looks up, frowning a little at how you flinch at having been caught staring at him. "If that bastard comes back, I'm killing him slow this time," the demon tells you quietly.

"He's not coming back. Can't." There wasn't a body. There wasn't a fuckin' body, 'kat, not when you were done—

"Exactly. There's no fucking way he could come back." You can see the unspoken but if he does in Karkat's face for a moment; then he nods, shifting the laptop to let you see that he's got a chat open. "D says he's coming as soon as he can."

Part of you wants to protest that this isn't worth that kind of trouble, that you'renot worth it.

Under that, there's the knowledge that Bro hammered into you over and over again when he was alive, that he summed up really fucking well—no, your dreamsummed up—with the words I own your ass. Even if you know that's not true, you believe it anyway, deep down, and that part of you believes that if Bro wants to take you back, D won't stop him.

"Dave?" Karkat asks, and you know he knows what you're thinking. If you give him any opening to, he'll refute it, and do it well.

"Yeah, man. He's coming, that's...good."

"Want me to fuck around and see if I can't get Hal's videoconferencing thing up?"

You kind of do want that, but... "Nah. We wait 'til we got everybody in here; no fuckin' way can I go over those damn dreams more'n once."

Hal and Dirk drag the chairs into a rough half-circle, which turns into a full circle when you factor in the three laptops, each with an active video connection to Rose, D, and Roxy. The chairs started out evenly spaced, but you almost immediately pulled Karkat's closer to yours.

Everyone else knows better than to say anything about that. Not that they would. There's nothing wrong with it, they know how it is with you and him, there's no reason to feel fucking guilty, this is okay, this is right, this—

"Dave?" D asks. He sighs when you jump and focus on him at the sound of your name, and rakes both hands through his already fucked-up hair. Wherever he is, it's at least a couple hours ahead of you; you can see morning sunlight through the window behind him. "Shit. It's bad, isn't it?"

"No." You refuse to believe that anything's going to happen. It's a fucking bad dream, some kind of magic maybe, somebody with a grudge decided to—

If I could come back, Bro drawls out in your head, and even though this time it's only the fucking memory of a dream, you still shudder. It's a small enough movement that D might not be able to catch it through the webcam, but Hal sure as hell sees it. You can see how the shikigami's posture stiffens, just the smallest bit.

"Very bad," Hal corrects you.

"...yeah." He's right. You know he is.

"What sort of 'very bad' are we discussing here, exactly?" Rose asks. It's obviously still night for her; both she and Kanaya are in the field of the camera on their end, somewhat less scruffy than D is but just as obviously only recently out of bed. You don't think you've ever seen Kanaya at night before; she looks more vampire than you're used to, very still and focused on what you're guessing is the telltale light for the webcam, eyes very wide and dark against her luminous skin. "I mean...I do have some idea, there isn't much that makes Dave react like this, but I'd still like the more comprehensive explanation if possible. Especially if that explanation proves my assumption wrong."

"That 'if possible' needs more emphasis, Rosie," Roxy adds. She's the only one who seems fully awake and dressed, which is maybe a little weird since you're pretty sure she's in the same timezone as you are. Then again, from the small room she's in, she could be on some kind of job. "Like, we can roll without the details if going over 'em's gonna fuck shit up worse."

It probably is, you think. Then, because Karkat's going to react to that thought and flatly refuse to let you try to talk about it in another second, you start talking. "I dreamed about Bro. Except—it wasn't a fucking dream. More like he was there, like I spoke to him—it was closer to using the empath shit to talk to Karkat than anything else—except that I've ever done that asleep—and I can't talk to him, Bro, never could, even if he was alive I can't speak without the bond and I'd—fuck, I'd never—I couldn't—"

"Time out," Karkat says sharply, reaching over to grab your hand and get you to stop twisting at the hem of your shirt, lacing his fingers through yours. He's dead. Breathe.

"He's dead," you repeat, and take a breath. "I know. But he still fucking talked to me. Twice."

"You're sure it wasn't you dreaming about him talking to you?" D asks. "Not that I don't believe you, just..."

"No." Dirk and Hal both say it at the same time. They glance at each other, and it's Dirk who continues. "Dave, turn your head a little, scoot up to the cam. D, look at his face."

You do what Dirk says, putting the marks from where Bro hit you in the dream on display. After a second you hear D's sharp intake of breath, more a dismayed hiss than a gasp.

"Dreams don't leave bruises," Hal points out, in that calm tone that means he's really fucking upset. "Unless he did it himself—"

"Trust me. He didn't." That's Karkat.

"Fuck," D whispers, soft and dismayed and almost horrified. You wonder what exactly he's thinking right now—is he afraid that Bro's going to somehow make good on his threat and come back? Is he as confused as you are as to how he'd do that?

Fuck. Is he wondering if he can get his brother back, like I never had Karkat kill him?I

"Stop," Karkat murmurs, shaking his head when you look at him. Ask him.

Can't.

Fine. I will. And before you can tell him to not fucking do that, the demon leans towards D's video pickup, scowling at it. "What are you planning on doing if that asshole shows up again, somehow?"

D shrugs slightly, and his posture changes just a little, shoulders relaxing and face going blank for a second as he switches gears. You're still not used to how he does that, the shift in body language when he goes from just talking to planning; the change is noticeable enough that people who've only met him in one state sometimes don't recognize him the first time they see him in the other.

"If he comes back, we're dealing with bad shit," D says slowly. "It'd mean he's corporeal without his actual body—means he's either strong enough to manifest his own, in which case we're dead, everyone he wants dead is fuckin' wasted, period, exclamation point—or someone made him a body; which means he's got a fuckin' patron. Like, one who's got a damn good necromancer, to raise a guy after two years and in a body not his own." He stops and nods at John, who's got one hand up like he's in school. "Don't do that. You got a point, Egbert?"

John does not have the social grace to look even a little ashamed of himself as he lowers his hand. "We could also go with the assumption that Dave's bro is a vengeful enough spirit to fuck with dreams and possibly inhabit any usable body. Possession isn't totally unknown with ghosts—"

"The timeframe's weird," Hal points out. "What's the reasoning behind waiting until now? Unless he has the ability to store energy beyond known limits for this type of specter, he should have been at full strength after no more than two weeks to a month of death. Considering that his death was violent, I'd put the beginning of the plateau closer to the former. There'd be very little reason for him to wait this long to harass Dave."

"So we assume there's a reason he waited," Dirk agrees. "Which would be...?"

Damn. Now everybody's looking at you. "How the hell would I know?" Okay, you probably didn't need to sound that defensive. Goddamnit.

"Well, you are the one who's best versed on your own life, Dave," Rose points out. Then, as Karkat shifts his chair a few inches in your direction so he's close enough to wrap his arm around your shoulders, she amends that statement. "Well, other than possibly Karkat. Has something changed noticeably for you? Mentally, in everyday life, anything?"

You and Karkat shake your heads at the exact same time.

There's an unfortunately awkward silence as everybody considers. It's Roxy that breaks it.

"He's turning eighteen in what, a week? Lil' less? Dunno if that counts as something changing, but it's def a date of power."

Well, shit. You're suddenly and unreasonably angry, enough that Karkat jerks in his chair and looks over at you in surprise. "So he wants to fuck up my birthday? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I mean, it's more likely he's using the ethereal and karmic energy generated by events and dates that're perceived significant to gain enough power to fuck you over, but." John shrugs and tips his chair back. "Yep, it kind of boils down to him fucking up your birthday."

"What the fuck is ethereal energy?" D asks. "You mean ectoplasmic? 'cause I know a lil' more about that shit—"

"Why would social rituals generate ghosty stuff? That doesn't even make sense—"

"Well, ethereal means angels, so that doesn't make sense—"

"It doesn't just mean angelic energy, come on—"

Hal beeps. Loudly. It sounds like a car unlocking and gets John and D to stop talking and focus on him. "Off topic."

"Current topic is 'Dave Is Being Tormented By Bro And We Need To Remedy That,'" Rose points out helpfully. "Kanaya, are you planning on attacking the webcam?"

The vampire blinks, for the first time since the video feed came up, and glances at your sister. "...um. Probably not?"

"Oh, good. Perhaps it'd be safer if you go lie back down, though." When Kanaya nods in agreement and rises to leave, Rose asks, "So. Perhaps we can address the current topic, then?"

"The only thing I can do to address that shit is not fucking sleep, Rose," you point out, trying to ignore the memories that are already rising. Yeah, you can stay awake for a pretty long time—three or four days and still be combat-ready, five or six if you're willing to put yourself through paranoia and hallucinations, dose yourself up with caffeine and hope you don't have a fucking heart attack—

"Dave," Karkat says sharply.

Shit. You're slipping back into how you thought when he was alive, aren't you? That more-or-less constant state of expectation, of fear without ever showing or admitting you're afraid, of knowing that shit's going to happen and you have no power over it...you thought you were out of that. You thought you were done with it. You've worked to be done with it, worked hard as hell to move past his shit.

But all it takes is a couple dreams, and you're right back where you started.

"Sorry," you mutter, folding your arms across your chest and hoping the movement doesn't look as defensive as it is.

"You're not the one who needs to be saying sorry here," D points out, shaking his head. "That'd be my fuckin' scumbag brother...but yeah, no, you staying awake isn't a solution and we all know it—"

"I'm not going back to sleep after tonight's shit, D—"

"And I get that, man, but hear me out, okay? For all we know this was a goddamn isolated incident, that he's got a limited window for being able to fuck with you."

You glance at John for confirmation on that, and he nods. "It could totally be a one-off. A lot of ghosts can't muster up enough power to manifest in any way; of the ones that can, some can only manage it once or twice."

"Thanks for the backup, ghosty boy. And if the bastard's just got until your birthday to fuck with you, then Dirk gives you the sleeping meds I know he still has from that time with the dreamwalker, and you sleep deep enough that Bro can't touch you."

Fuck. Yeah, that'd help. Karkat purrs as he catches some amount of your surge of stupid, pitiful relief that there's a way to avoid speaking to Bro in your dreams. The purr turns into an unhappy growl as your mind immediately moves in another direction. "And if it's not just 'til my birthday?"

"C'mon, Dave, don't buy trouble—"

"It's not exactly buying trouble, Rox," Hal says before she can tell you not to worry about what you're already stressing over. "If he wants to state the possibilities, we will. A, this is already over—"

"It's not."

"Dave, let me finish my list. A, this is a one-time thing, and it's over. B, there's a limited window of time this can happen, and we can wait it out. C, this is...well, more permanent, in which case we figure out a way to get rid of the fucking ghost. Exorcisms suck but they're still a viable option."

"Or option D." You don't want to say it. It needs to be said, needs to be put on the table. "He does come back."

"See, that one's the easiest to handle," D says. " 'Cause that one just means I do what I shoulda done five years ago: I fucking kill him."

There's nothing in his voice but cold sincerity. You want to fucking cry. "D, if he—you don't—" Yeah, shit, can't keep your voice steady. Not at all. Karkat's in your head, trying to surround you with reassurance that you don't have to talk, Dirk and Hal and John are looking at you and you're guessing Roxy and Rose probably are too, and you can't take it right now.

You shake your head and cover your face with both hands. "...shit."

Karkat squeezes your shoulder. Are you going to be okay?

I have no fuckin' clue. You open your mind to the demon for a second, let him see the mess of emotions and thoughts you've got going on right now in the hope he can untangle it a little better than you can, or at least understand it. You sure as hell don't understand.

But Karkat gets some of it. "Of course D's going to fucking choose you, Dave."

"Over Bro? You bet your fucking life I would." D sighs, and even though you can't look right now you can hear the stressed frustration in the sound. "Look. I think we covered everything we can right now; I'm gonna go start seeing about getting my ass back to y'all, okay?"

"Good plan," Dirk agrees. "Rox, Rose?"

"I'm stuck here for three more days at least," Roxy says ruefully. "Kind of committed to this job; I didn't think I'd need to get back to Dirk's before Dave's birthday."

"Kanaya and I will be on the plane down there the day after tomorrow," Rose says. "I don't believe even I can expedite beyond that."

"So in a couple days we'll all be there," D finishes. "It'll be okay, Dave."

"Yeah." You believe him. Maybe that part of your mind that still belongs to Bro doesn't believe, but everything else knows that D and the others will do everything they can to make sure shit goes okay. "Talk to you guys later."

And Karkat pulls you to your feet and towards the couch as Hal starts unhooking the laptops and camera. You don't have to ask to know that the demon's going to find a movie and curl up with you, make sure you don't sleep again tonight. Keep you safe.

It'll be okay, you tell yourself, and you keep repeating it until you believe it a little more.

#demon eyes